Chapter 643

Chapter 643: Joining the Game

While Demon Hunter’s team leader "Yasha" was tangled up in the fact that he had “accidentally” shot down a UFO and caused a colossal disaster, Lin Mo had already received his combat plan.

He was set to move out in three days.

Lin Mo’s combat target was a privately designed and manufactured jet fighter, with a pilot from France, code-named "Young Fox." This pilot had just completed two battles, rising from a novice rank of nine to eight, with a record of one kill and one injured. He ranked 129th overall and 71st in his faction, placing him in the bottom tier of newcomers.

If Lin Mo could eliminate this new opponent in his first battle, he would earn a kill reward of 20 points and the opponent’s personal points.

Both pilots were in the novice tier, and while they didn’t know how many points the other had left, they should have a bit, which could barely be traded for some ammunition and fuel.

New participants, regardless of whether they had previously been on the battlefield or had any records—be they military or civilian—started from scratch, all placed on the same starting line.

Even ace pilots from various countries were treated equally, assigned to the novice tier. This novice tier was categorized based on performance data, divided into levels nine, eight, and seven.

As a first-time registrant, Lin Mo was naturally placed in the lowest level of the novice group, starting with random individual challenges to accumulate achievements and points, gradually progressing to the intermediate and advanced pilot groups.

After receiving his mission, Lin Mo used a specialized terminal and consulting personnel at the Abyss Nirvana mission center to learn about the game rules and other information regarding the death match.

His primary opponent this time was Eagle King David de Hitt from the 1st Flight Wing of the United States. During the time Lin Mo was preparing for battle, Eagle King had already become an advanced third-tier pilot in Abyss Nirvana, ranking 17th overall and 9th among the Anti-Government Forces, with a record of 10 kills and 2 injuries.

Unless there was a death team battle occurring every 30 days, based on the principles of combat within the same tier, Lin Mo would have almost no chance to engage Colonel Eagle King David de Hitt before advancing to the high-tier pilot group.

This was a protective mechanism from the organizers, attempting to evenly distribute pilots among the novice, intermediate, and advanced tiers to avoid one-sided massacres.

Though it was a death match, it still contained elements of competition, as many influential figures placed bets on the outcomes for profit and excitement.

Underestimating the battles of the novice tier would be a grave mistake. No one knew if their opponent was a top ace pilot from various countries who had never participated in Abyss Nirvana. A moment of carelessness could result in being sent straight to hell by a newcomer posing as a weakling.

Lin Mo found an empty corner, removed his watch, and took out his phone.

“Hi! Sally, it’s the Dragon Knight!”

The Afghan girl in charge of the Dragoon consortium had previously given Lin Mo a business card, and he quickly connected the call. However, the other party didn’t know that Lin Mo’s phone had at least four interchangeable communication numbers.

Dual-SIM functions were child’s play for the gold giant dragon; his watch could handle an unlimited number of cards and modes as long as it was a communication method available to humans.

“Knight Sir!”

Sally, busy in Afghanistan, was overjoyed to receive a call from Lin Mo. Although she couldn’t see the caller’s number, his familiar voice assured her it was no prank.

Only this man appeared out of nowhere.

“Uh, please don’t call me ‘Sir’ anymore; it feels awkward. Just call me Morin from now on.”

Sally had once addressed Lin Mo as "Sir Knight" without hesitation, thinking it was natural. But after living in this world for a while, the Dragon Knight gradually adapted to the lifestyle and social norms around him. Using noble titles and etiquette made him feel less natural, as he had lived long enough in a modern military context.

Hearing Sally’s address felt as if she were his servant, even though slavery had vanished from this world for many years.

Having a ready-to-please Persian beauty staring at him was always a situation where one couldn’t help but cringe.

“Morin, is that your name, my Lord?”

Sally was ecstatic; her master finally revealed his name, which meant she had gained his trust.

Obtaining this trust felt more valuable to her than a hundred billion dollars.

Once again, "my Lord?" Lin Mo felt a headache coming and didn’t want to dwell on this anymore. He said, “To get to the point, how much liquid cash do you have on hand? Preferably in cash?”

“You need money?”

Sally, always prepared like a Young Pioneer, had long viewed herself and the Dragoon consortium as Lin Mo’s personal property. This secret was known only to a few, even the Afghan government and Chinese military were unaware of it.

If the high-ranking officials in China knew that Sally had consistently held onto this unwavering belief, they would likely rally their troops to invade Afghanistan, taking over the entire country through the powerful Dragoon consortium.

This was fundamentally different from the earlier invasions of Afghanistan by America and the Soviet Union. The Dragoon consortium, which held the people’s support, had an incomparable advantage in local connections and grassroots support. As long as they eliminated the opposing armed forces, the Afghan people would hardly resist the Chinese army. In these times, as long as people were fed without oppression or plunder, they would go along with it.

“Hmm, there’s a money-making opportunity! I’ll invest some and pull you in."

Lin Mo hesitated for a moment; he understood the principle of not letting the good fortune flow to outsiders.

“Hold on, let me check."

The Dragoon consortium boasted the most advanced computer management system, and Sally, with the highest authority, could instantly access financial data from the finance department.

“I currently have 50 million dollars, Morin. Give me three days; I’ll arrange for a loan, and maybe I can secure another 50 million dollars."

After deducting accounts payable and necessary working capital, Sally’s tone dimmed as the disposable cash on hand was not much, especially after recently purchasing several Super Dodos and establishing an aircraft factory.

“50 million?! That’s tight, but it’ll do without a loan.”

Lin Mo didn’t expect Sally to have such a large cash flow. Company assets and cash flow were two different concepts; unless in the financial industry, cash flow for most real-sector businesses was often tight, as assets were mainly reflected in tangible values.

With the economy struggling and loan risks high, Lin Mo knew Sally had invested in the aviation industry, and being a veteran in that field, he understood how costly it was. Building a turboprop fighter didn’t come cheap.

“I’m in Damascus, Syria. Get your MasterCard or Visa ready, bring the money over, and once you arrive in Damascus, I’ll tell you what to do next.”

After his phone call with Sally, Lin Mo didn’t plan to contact Qi Fei. Moonlit Lotus was in an expansion phase and surely facing cash flow challenges. It wouldn’t become financially stable in just one or two years.

The Abyss Nirvana mission center was housed within a specially built steel and concrete structure at the air force base. Like a stock exchange, it displayed large screens showing flight codes, aircraft types, rankings, value points, points owned, number of kills, number of injuries, and odds for every pilot in the government army.

As a part of this war game, Lin Mo didn’t want to become an easy target for the wealthy elite’s bets. Participating in the game himself might be more fun.

With a few million yuan left as surplus, Lin Mo decided to place bets on himself, going for full investment until the current Abyss Nirvana ended or he withdrew.

Even if he failed once—well, for Lin Mo, failure didn’t exist, only death. If one died, their wealth vanished—that was the most natural outcome.

“It’s either those who take bold risks or those too timid who starve; it’s that simple.”

“Yan, Zhou, I have a design here. Use laser ablation on the aircraft’s surface, just 0.01 millimeters deep, then embed titanium wires to fill it.”

Lin Mo returned to the hangar with a newly bought USB drive and a rolled-up sheet.

The X-1, temporarily exchanged for the ‘monstrous’ was now out of its second container. Young engineers Yan Yongping and Zhou Jun from the National Defense Star were directing the four fighters from Demon Hunter to start the assembly work.

“What’s this?”

Engineer Zhou Jun curiously took the A3 blueprint from Lin Mo and spread it on the steel and wood workbench.

It was a blueprint of the X-1, but the surface was covered in strange lines and symbols, looking very odd and adding an air of mystery.

“It’s a magic circle! This USB drive contains the vector source image. I’ll use my Basic Points to borrow an automatic laser etching machine to directly engrave the pattern onto the aircraft’s surface.”

Lin Mo placed the USB drive on the workbench. This came from a world with magical civilization, and the ‘monstrous’ had several applications.

Though he didn’t possess extensive knowledge of magic circles as a combat expert, this magic circle was a product of simulation and deduction by the gold giant dragon and large computers, barely one of the few magic circles applicable to fighter jets.

“A magic circle?”

Zhou Jun and another engineer, Yan Yongping, exchanged glances, a peculiar feeling arising in their hearts. Their eyes unintentionally drifted to the remnants of the UFO outside, still emitting thin wisps of smoke.

With the existence of ultra-science fiction UFOs, having a “magic circle” didn’t seem far-fetched. Perhaps it was some kind of special energy field technology with a unique codename.